


Human Experimentation

by TheInfamousDoctorF



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Bondage, Gore, M/M, Rape, blowjob, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2800421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInfamousDoctorF/pseuds/TheInfamousDoctorF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[A really old piece that I didn't like only being behind a registry wall on DeviantArt.] </p>
<p> Spirit asks about the screw and gets a lot more then a simple answer in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Under a chortling moon, dreary raindrops fell on a windowpane. The squat building was lit only by the bluish glow of a computer screen. A man sat hunched over his desk. He turned his chair idly back and forth, unable to sleep or focus fully on being awake. He turned a large screw that pieced his head from one temple to the other. It made a clicking noise as he fiddled with it.  
With bare feet he pushed away from the desk and leaned back. His white robe slipped off his hips, exposing only a pair of soft shorts with wide over-stitches up the sides.  
While it was nice to have the lab all to himself; part of him missed having a room-mate. 'Someone to bounce ideas off of and...' he chuckled to himself. 'Maybe be a helpless subject for some human experimentation.'  
A soft noise broke him from his reverie; someone tapping on the front door.  
He rose and padded over to open it.  
Spirit stood in the doorway. He looked disheveled and his clothing was soaked. He stumbled over the threshold in the doorway and Stein caught his comrade before he fell on the hard concrete floor. The Doctor eased him down on the couch and shut the door against the blowing rain.  
It didn't take much of an examination to discover that Spirit was drunk. "I got lost and saw your light on," he mumbled.  
Stein sighed, a little smile on his face. "So you found your way back here? Well, it was your home too, once upon a time."  
Spirit shuddered at the thought. "Terrible times," he muttered.  
The Doctor seemed to deflate slightly. "Was it really all that bad?"  
Spirit seemed to sober up momentarily. "You experimented on me! How could you do that?"  
Stein paced across the room, before speaking again. "Actually I didn't do much of anything to you. I just marked you up because I needed someone to practice my soul threads technique on. I never actually cut you, not once."  
The red-headed scythe just stared, unable to process what he was hearing.  
"Kami was hitting on you, and I told her to back off. So she convinced you to move out, partially to get back at me for not wanting to share you."  
Spirit's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean 'share' me?"  
The meager illumination reflected off Stein's glasses, obscuring his expression. "It's simple enough; I wanted you all for myself. It's why I never cut your perfect white flesh either. It's why you caught me watching you sleep a few times. I wanted nothing more then to touch you, to have you here with me, where you belong."  
Spirit trembled at the thought. With three quick steps, the doctor was looming above him, and Spirit was suddenly very, very sober. He scrabbled backwards on the couch waving his hands wildly about. Stein made a face and reached down into a drawer beside where Spirit was sitting. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Little skulls manifested and uncurled in the spiraling smoke.  
Shibusen's revered DeathScythe suddenly felt really embarrassed at his obvious overreaction. He decided to change the subject of the conversation to something safer, if possible. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you for a long time."  
"Hmm?"  
He pointed at the screw in Stein's skull. "Can you actually take that out?"  
The Doctor's raised eyebrow was eloquent. He expelled a little stream of smoke before replying. "Yes, but it's not easy, or comfortable to do so. Though... come with me, I want to show you something.  
There was no light in the hallway apart from the occasional flash of lightning outside. The storm splashed a pallid light across their faces as Stein led Spirit into one of his operating rooms. He pulled out a deep drawer and rummaged for a moment before extracting a screw identical to the one in his head.  
It was smooth and cold in his hands, and he twisted the head in a complex motion that made the shaft split in the center. It revealed an interior of tiny mechanics that existed only to increase Qi and massage ones brain from the inside out.  
He passed it to Spirit and then guided his partner's hands in the combination to reunite the two halves. "It's not perfect, but it works well enough. I can pull out the two halves of the one in my mind the same way." An evil thought crossed his mind. "Why sempai, would you like me to fit you with my spare?"  
A cold chill shot all through Spirit in reaction to his words. "No." He said firmly, trying to disguise his fear of his former meister. "I still can't believe you did that to yourself."  
Stein stiffened in irritation. "It's about self-control. Something you wouldn't know anything about." He stabbed his cigarette violently out in the metal pan of the sink.  
Spirit looked down at his shoes, the words were true and they stung immeasurably. "You know how I am, I can't help it. Some weaknesses are impossible to conquer."  
"Well maybe I shouldn't bother then." Stein cooed. In a blink he was in Spirit's face and shoved him down on a table. He loomed over the Deathscythe, fully aware of the danger he was in.  
"Ste-Stein! Get off me!" Spirit squiggled for moment beneath him. Then he realized something... "I could hurt you, you know? I'm full of blades and you're too close to block me."  
"But you won't do it," Stein whispered. He pulled a pair of scissors from his pocket and deftly snipped the buttons off Spirit's shirt. The dull green fabric peeled away to reveal soft white flesh beneath. Never breaking eye contact, Stein slid off his comrade's wet jacket and shirt. Carelessly he balled up Spirit's necktie and threw it into the sink.  
The chill air made Spirit's nipples rise in protest and he moved to cover himself back up. "I'm not afraid of you," he snapped. "This isn't funny anymore."  
Stein shrugged. "It was never funny. I'm serious. I want you."  
"No."  
There was that look again. An odd determination, mixed with the doctor's insatiable curiosity. Spirit's heart thrashed wildly in his chest. Stein sniffed the air theatrically. "I can smell your fear."  
His hands closed like stocks around Spirits wrists, and he pressed them against the cold table. As Spirit wiggled to get free; the doctor lowered his face to his partner's chest, tasting the sweat drying on his skin. His wandering tongue reached the waist of Spirit's pants, and he removed the fastenings with his teeth.  
The Deathscythe had been gifted by nature in other ways as well. He was yelling now, but Stein couldn't hear him. He was too focused on his buki's other weapon. With a hiss he took it in his mouth and Spirit fell suddenly silent. In one moment, he was both terrified and enraptured. He could not believe that the Doctor had decided to handle him this way. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of something else, anything but what was happening to him. He told himself over and over, 'I am not enjoying this, I am NOT enjoying this.'  
Stein sensed Spirit going elsewhere mentally, and bit his foreskin to get his attention. He yelped at the sudden pain and the doctor pulled away, blowing gently on the wound to make the tender skin even more sensitive.  
"Fine. We'll do this another way sempai." With a heave he shoved Spirit over onto his stomach and bound his arms to the table. He grabbed some tubing and tied Spirit's ankles down as well.  
There was an odd, acrid smell in the air. Spirit was pleading now, "what are you doing Franken? Please control yourself!"  
But the Doctor wasn't listening. He pulled on a pair of surgical gloves, and reached for something Spirit couldn't see. He moved near his buki's face, so he could see the head screw cradled in his partners arms. "I've changed my mind sempai, I AM going to give you a screw of your own. You'll thank me later."  
The red head was practically in tears, he struggled vainly against the shackles around his wrists. Suddenly he realized Stein was pulling down his pants and underwear. A rubber glove brushed against his bare buttocks and he shivered in fear.  
"Now, now sempai, I'm capable of being gentle when I want to. It will feel good soon. I promise."  
His answer was a terrified whimper.  
The doctor slathered one gloved hand with lubricant and spread Spirit's pale moon with the other. His fingers swirled around the other man's entrance while he hummed softly to himself. With a gentle push he slipped a finger inside. Spirit bucked against the table, moaning in newfound pleasure. After a moment he pressed a little harder and added another digit. Spirit's hair was plastered to his head with sweat, and he gritted his teeth against the pressure in his backside. Suddenly the fingers were extracted, and he blew out a long breath of relief. In between pants he managed to say; "there's something really wrong with you. You can't do this to me. I don't know why you thought that would make me feel good, but it just doesn't!"  
Suddenly his eyes crossed. His whole body trembled in orgasm. Stein had pressed the small end of the screw between his cheeks and begun to push it into his rectum. "I-I-mfghthp!" Spirit stammered incoherently.  
The doctor just laughed madly. He grabbed the screw head and twisted it further in with a slow click-click-click. Spirit bucked and rolled with waves of excitement. He moaned and stammered and then suddenly stiffened up. His penis was so hard it practically lifted him off the table and spurted a thick wad of cum across the gleaming steel surface.  
Stein noticed it, and with practiced care, drew the screw slowly out of Spirit. He pulled off his gloves and studied the exhausted man panting on his examination table. His smile was twisted and slightly cruel. He leaned down and looked the red-head in the eyes. "You were saying something about not enjoying yourself sempai?" Spirit wanted to be mad, but he felt too good to play the part. He just stared mutely into his friend's wide green eyes.  
The doctor smiled even wider, and patted his partner's wet hair. "Either way, your timing is good. I think we need to draw this experiment to a close for the moment."  
Spirit managed to raise an eyebrow.  
"I need to find the extinguisher and clean things up."  
"Why?" Spirit managed to gulp sarcastically. "Did I get semen on your floor?"  
"Well no." Stein indicated a thin pillar of smoke coming from the steel sink. "Your tie is on fire. Sorry sempai."


	2. Chapter 2

Spirit was bleeding. He vaguely remembered passing out in drunken exhaustion after being violated by his old partner. There was no pain, just a spreading wetness beneath his back. He vaguely sensed air touching organs that should never feel it. The man struggled to raise his head to see the wound. What greeted his eyes frightened him too much to even scream.  
Dr. Franken Stein was decked out in his scrubs and surgical gloves, and elbow deep in Spirit's torso. His clothes were spattered with blood and he wore an expression of serene concentration. As if he was merely exploring the contents of a very full refrigerator.  
He pulled out a pulsing organ and brought it up to his face. The connection pulled taught enough for Spirit to feel it resisting its own removal.  
The doctor cradled the organ gently against his cheek while the blood dribbled on his collar. And with a deliberate slowness he licked the glistening surface. .  
Spirit bolted upright with a terrified scream.  
He realized had no idea where he was. It was dark, and his questing fingers explored the bed he lay on. A thumb caught abruptly under a large stitch in the covers, and then another. A vague memory surfaced of strong hands carrying him from the operating room.  
Heavy curtains blocked out all but the faintest sunlight. But the wan light still revealed some details of the patchwork room he lay in. Spirit sighed heavily. Stein had tucked his spent partner into his own bed, and presumably left him alone to sleep it off.  
His clothes were nowhere to be seen, but a bulky shape partially concealed a chair beside the bed. The weapon dragged it over his naked body. The fabric felt familiar and he twitched a curtain aside to look at it.  
Just an old bathrobe, something he thought was lost forever; an artifact from years past, when the lab was his home too. The doctor's words came back to him; 'I wanted you here with me.'  
Try as he might he couldn't bring himself to get angry. Part of him wasn't surprised that Stein had some dark designs on him. The man had an insatiable curiosity, especially when it came to weapons. And he'd been here all alone... how long? Struggling in solitude while he fought the madness he'd been born with.  
A little lump formed in his throat. He thought, 'I should have seen it all along.'

 

* * * * *

 

Dr. Franken Stein was standing in the shower. Scalding water streamed over his lean muscles; tracing and pouring over the scars where he had soul-threaded his own flesh. He scrubbed his face. The stitches across his cheek were barely a ripple on the surface, but stood out as a dark tattoo on his pale skin.  
He thought about his old partner Spirit; so different from himself. Hair like a nimbus of flames around a face flushed with blood and passion. His hand cradled his manhood and stroked it gently. Stein felt a touch of regret. He'd had his chance to make love to his glorious weapon and chose to use an implement instead. Now he might never get that chance again. His hands fell limply at his sides and he sighed deeply in the steam.  
He stepped out onto the mat; the soles of his feet registered a row of stitches across its fluffy surface. Yes, even that. The sensation was familiar and comforting. He patted his glistening skin with a white towel.  
He wasn't even sure what to say to Spirit. The Deathscythe understood Stein's constant struggle for control of his impulses. But it didn't mean he wouldn't be angry. Scaring his friend was all in good fun. He winced, but raping him might be a bit too much to forgive. For all he knew Spirit had raced back to Shibusen to tell the Shinigami what the mad doctor had done to him.  
But the deed was already done and couldn't be taken back.  
Stein pulled on a pair of shorts and wandered out into the lab.  
A little coil of smoke formed a skull above his sofa. Spirit was still wearing the bathrobe, and calmly puffing on one of the doctor's cigarettes.  
Spirit proffered the pack over his shoulder, and Stein perched on the arm beside him. They smoked in silence for a long moment.  
Stein turned the screw in his head a slow quarter turn. "Are you angry?"  
The redhead thought about it. "It depends. How long have wanted to do that to me?"  
His reply was barely a whisper; "since the first time we met. I feel like my life began the day we were assigned together." His fingers crept across the couch and settled on Spirit's right hand. "I felt like I could conquer any foe with you at my side. And for years I contented myself with holding your metal shaft, when I really wanted your warm flesh beneath my hands."  
Spirit's lip trembled. Stein had lied to him many a time, just to tease him or work his nerves. Now he sensed truth. Sitting here within his old partner's swollen soul, the blue light filling the room as the Doctor poured out his bleeding heart. There was no hint of madness now, just a sense of desperate hope for relief from an inner pain.  
He stood up slowly and turned to Stein. The Doctor stabbed his cigarette out in an ashtray and looked back owlishly. The Deathscythe reached out and put his hands on Stein's cheeks, and with an indrawn breath, he kissed the doctor's pale lips. Spirit pulled back quickly, his face flushed and hot.  
Stein looked down at the sudden bulge in Spirit's robe. He raised an eyebrow with silent eloquence. Thin fingers drew apart the front of the garment, and Stein kissed Spirit's throat. The buki gave a tiny whimper and leaned into the kiss. The doctor ran his tongue gently over his partner's Adam's apple; nipping delicately at the sensitive skin. Spirit shuddered and Stein pulled away.  
He ran his hands over his face and gripped either end of the screw that penetrated his skull. "I'm sorry."  
The sorrow seemed to radiate from him, and in the resonance that Spirit still felt; it twisted something deep inside. He gathered Stein into his arms and held him tightly. The weapon heard himself as if speaking from a distance; "I'm not. Please don't stop."  
Stein froze for a moment. He'd been hoping beyond hope for so long, and hearing those words come from Spirit's own lips was almost too much. He pressed his face against Spirit's chest, the soft curls brushing his flushed cheeks.  
Spirit felt slightly drunk, the pressure of the doctor's desire on his soul was intoxicating. He felt Steins tongue flick across one nipple. And he laid his head upon the other man's soft gray hair. The cold metal of the screw rested against his lips, and a small, mad impulse took hold of him.  
He gripped his partner's screw and twisted it with a rhythmic click-click-click. Stein trembled as the sparks flowed over his brain. He grabbed hold of Spirit and shoved him down on the couch, pinning his arms at his sides. The doctor fastened his lips over one of the man's nipples and pinched the other with his fingers. He began to tug and suck upon them.  
Spirit twitched under his hips and he could feel the man's hardening penis pressed against his leg. He grasped the skin around Spirit's nipples and kneaded them as if they were a woman's heaving breasts. Spirit struggled just a little, his muscles twitching involuntarily at the strange sensations flowing through them. He moaned and Stein stopped his lips with a deep kiss.  
He caught Spirit's tongue in his teeth and nibbled on it. His buki's body shivered under him. "I want you," he whispered breathlessly. "I've always wanted you. When we resonate, I feel complete. I want to be inside you, and cast my stitches on your soul."  
Spirit was overwhelmed. His partner had hidden his inner thoughts well. He knew the doctor liked him, but he had no idea this depth of passion existed. A wild abandon took hold of him. He wiggled a hand free and yanked the knot on his robe tie apart. The sides fell away to reveal his naked body beneath.  
Stein gave him a look that lingered for a long moment on his erect manhood. Then he stood and removed his shorts. Spirit gasped. His partners phallus was both impressive and a testament to his dedication to doing surgery on his own flesh. A pair of screw-headed piercings covered the ends of a faint circumcision scar. He suddenly realized he was staring open-mouthed and shut it quickly.  
The doctor offered him a hand up and led him down the hall. Spirit shrank a little as they approached the door to one of the operating rooms, and then swelled again as Stein led him past it and into his own bedroom. He pushed the Deathscythe down on the bed and lay down beside him. His long fingers explored his partner's smooth skin. His touch stung faintly with the discharge of electricity from his soul.  
Franken Stein pulled a bag from beneath the bed and snapped on a rubber glove. The doctor rubbed a clear gel on his fingers and turned his hand slightly so it shimmered in the half-light. He motioned for Spirit to lay back and lift his legs, and then smeared the gel on the other man's entrance. With deliberate slowness he pushed a finger inside Spirit, and then another. The man made soft sounds, like a woman caught in the throes of a dream. The weapons insides were hot and wet, and Stein closed his eyes for a moment; just enjoying having his fingers inside, among Spirit's organs. He listened closely to the sweet moans emanating from Spirit with every movement of his hand.  
Then he withdrew them and tossed the glove aside. Spirit was panting now, sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes were pleading. "Come on," he whispered, "give it to me." He grabbed at Stein, his fingers kneading and flushed against the doctor's chalky skin. He grabbed the screw again, pulling Stein's head closer to his. He twisted the cold metal round and round until Stein's brain was buzzing. His look was fierce and determined. "All right sempai, if that's what you want."  
He moved himself against Spirit; who was biting his lip in anticipation. Stein pushed on Spirit's wrinkled, winking eye and slid inside. Spirit was keening now, a long low exhalation, rising and falling with each breath. The doctor rocked him slowly against his hips at first. Lifting the redhead up onto his lap and jostling his partner up and down on top of him. "Oh Doctor," he moaned, "go faster!"  
A dangerous mote glittered in the mad doctor's eyes. He laid Spirit back down and thrust into him with wild abandon.  
The Deathscythe almost screamed. His fingers clawed at Stein; pulling on his skin, trying to draw him down, closer to his body. Stein's manhood inside him made him feel electric; he could practically hear the buzzing of the mad doctor's thoughts as they moved together.  
But there was so much pressure. Spirit's body was bucking under the strain. His own phallus felt full to bursting. Each impact on his hips drove a wave of pleasure and pain to every corner of his being.  
Dr Franken Stein was happy. His white teeth parted in a twisted smile. He reveled in each slide of his tool into his partner's soft flesh. The way the skin contracted around him, as if reluctant to let him go. He let loose with a wild laugh.  
And then the hard screws on Stein's penis connected with Spirit's prostate.  
There was a spark between them, and then another. A nimbus danced over Stein's screw as the electricity earthed itself. Spirit howled as Stein came inside him. And then he followed his partners lead; painting his own seed all over his bare stomach. The light swelled and there was a heavy tearing sound, and the dull thunk of a blade hitting the wall. Stein toppled backward onto the mattress.  
Spirit was above the bed, all his limbs hanging down as if he'd been impaled.  
A massive blade had sprung from between his shoulder blades. It tore through the bedsprings like tissue and ripped into the floor, pushing his body upward. The Deathscythe struggled for a moment and then pulled the steel back inside him. Spirit fell limply onto the mattress, his breathing labored.  
Stein regarded him for a moment and then lay down beside him.  
"Soooo....." He said slowly, his lips curling into a wide grin. "Was it good for you too?"


	3. Chapter 3

The whetstone passed over the steel with the softest of hisses. Occasionally Spirit flinched as the stone was rubbed gently along the razor-sharp blade protruding from his shoulders. He made small sounds that reminded Stein of a child having his hair combed.  
"I missed this." The doctor mused quietly.  
"I'm just sorry I didn't see it sooner," the Deathscythe replied. "How badly you wanted to hold me, my friend." Spirit reached back and laced his fingers into Stein's free hand.  
Rock hushed across metal in the silence. "You feel so blunt sempai. Did Kami never sharpen you?" He asked wryly.  
The red-head colored slightly. Dr. Stein always knew how to make his words cut to the bone. And he replied; "never as well as you did, nor as often."  
Stein rocked back on his haunches. He touched the fine edge gingerly and then stuck his suddenly bleeding fingers into his mouth. He muttered a soft curse. "You could put a scalpel to shame."  
Spirit pulled the blade back into himself and turned to look at his friend. Stein sat on his knees, a long white bathrobe draped over his otherwise naked form. His pale, almost gray flesh was criss-crossed with the black lines of stitches he'd soul-threaded on his skin. The only color about him was his deep green eyes and a faint smear of red on his knuckle.  
Spirit gently pulled the bleeding hand from his partner's mouth and regarded the dribbling slice across Stein's fingers. Never breaking eye contact, he rubbed the two bleeding digits across his own lips. The doctor examined him coolly for a moment, and then poked his fingers inside of Spirit's slightly pursed lips. The buki sucked on them eagerly, his eyes closed.  
Franken Stein smiled. "Does the steel like the taste of his meisters blood?" The grin only widened as his partner blushed and released his hand. He chuckled softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I like the taste of you as well."  
Spirit shivered. His face went ashen as he remembered his nightmare of being dissected alive. The doctor saw his horrified expression. He grasped Spirit's shoulders and pulled him close. "Not like that," he whispered. He ran his tongue across the Deathscythe's shoulder. "I just love the flavor of your skin." He took hold of Spirit's jugular and kneaded it gently with his lips and teeth. He could feel the other man's pulse pounding under his mouth as he swirled his tongue over the tenderest spots.  
Spirit twitched involuntarily and Stein just grasped him tighter. A drop of sweat meandered down the weapon's throat and disappeared into the narrow crack where their bare chests were pressed together.  
The scythe scrabbled short fingernails across his meisters back. He couldn't say if he was trying to make the doctor release him, or press himself closer against his tormenter.  
Stein dimly felt Spirit clawing at him, and dug his own nails into the back of his partner. His fingers left furrows and painted his buki's shoulders with blood. He paused for a moment to clean them with a few long, lingering licks.  
Despite himself, Spirit was afraid, and the doctor could sense it. The taste of Spirit's fear was more potent then any drug to him. The scent of his terror was intoxicating. He pushed the smaller man down against the bed. The look he wore was horrible and Spirit shrank from him. His arms were tangled up in his own robe and Stein loomed over his naked torso. Raw desire painted on his face.  
Suddenly he seemed to calm down. "Do I really frighten you that much sempai?"  
Spirit paused a moment before answering to get his racing heart under control. "I think I have every reason to be wary of you," he said evenly.  
The doctor thought about it. "Fear" he said, "can also bring a sort of pleasure. The heart races, the mind quickens, the senses sharpen in the presence of possible death or dismemberment. The feeling is addictive."  
Spirit just looked at him skeptically.  
Suddenly Stein yanked the long tie out of his bathrobe. He shoved Spirit onto his side, pulled off his own robe and hog-tied the man's hands and ankles before he even had a chance to struggle. He dragged his partner onto his knees, and regarded him with a sly smile. Spirit was trembling. "What are you going to do?"  
Stein hunkered down on the bed like a cat about to pounce, "just prove my point, sempai. Just prove my point." He pulled a bag out from under the bed and laid a few tools on the table beside it.  
He twisted the screw in his head just once, and then advanced on his old friend once more. Spirit closed his eyes. He felt the doctor's cool hands fall as gently as leaves on his shoulders. They traced his collarbones with two small objects, and then descended.  
Fingers played in the few red curls of hair that adorned his bare chest, and then cast out to the left and right to brush gently on his nipples. Stein grasped the two nubbins of flesh and toyed with them until they were tender and hard. Spirit was moaning softly, but still refusing to open his eyes. But he cried out in shock when Stein clipped two pairs of tiny forceps over his nipples.  
He thrashed back and forth, but the doctor held his wrists tightly against his rear, keeping him firmly on his knees. Spirit felt one hand release its hold on his bondage, but instantly froze as Stein moved that free hand to grip his weapon's balls.  
"Settle down sempai," he purred.  
Spirit just whimpered in discomfort. 'Why hadn't he run away when he had the chance? He'd been missing for at least a day now; surely someone would come looking for him.'  
A flick on one of the forceps shattered his musings and he cried out again.  
"Now, now," Stein whispered. "Stay with me, I need your full attention for this." His cool hands stroked Spirit's balls and then moved up to his phallus. Spirit fought the sensation but the blood engorged his member anyway. His breathing quickened a little, the doctor knew just where to touch him. When he was satisfied with his partner's erection, he turned Spirit over his lap. With one hand he continued to milk his weapon's penis and used the other to steady the other's body. He ran his lips over the fresh grooves he'd dug in Spirit's flesh. Sometimes licking or suckling, but often simply kissing the flayed skin.  
Spirit twitched in his grip. He moaned in pleasure and pain. The grandest of all the Shinigami's weapons was mortally terrified and fiercely aroused at the same time. He wanted this to stop, but he also wanted it to go on forever. And if he started to drift or fall silent, Stein would lay a ringing slap against his buttocks with a short length of rubber tubing.  
The doctor finally wiggled out from underneath him; leaving him trembling on his shoulders, with his exposed rear in the air. He buried his face in the blankets and braced himself for the pain he suspected was coming. Moments dragged like aeons.  
He sneaked a glance from one half-opened eye. Stein was only a few inches away from his face. Spirit's lip trembled involuntarily. The face receded and strong hands gently rolled him over on his side. His heart skipped a beat as the doctor once again cupped his testicles.  
Warm lips closed around his penis and his eyes snapped open. Stein lay on his side, one hand clasped around the head of his screw; bracing his skull at a comfortable angle. The other kneaded gently at Spirit's balls. He blew leisurely, his tongue gently exploring every crevice of his partner's member. His expression was peaceful, as if he were simply sucking a sweet while reading.  
He had to admit, despite the fear he was feeling; it felt very good. Then an idea struck him, and he wiggled forward a little at a time, so as not to disturb his partner.  
For all his madness, Stein really did love Spirit. And the least he could do for his long-suffering partner was make him feel good in the only way he knew how. 'Pleasure given without strings or expectations were as good a gift as any,' he mused. Suddenly he felt something odd and looked down. He gasped in surprise and unexpected bliss.  
Spirit, still tied up, had inched forward and was nuzzling his face beneath his meister's robe. He gathered the doctor's penis in his own mouth and started to suck in time with his master. He hitched the two screw-headed barbells behind his front teeth and explored the head of Steins erect penis with his tongue. The doctor shuddered as he pressed its moist tip into the slit at the top of his dick.  
He moaned around the phallus in his own mouth and responded with a more vigorous suction. Spirit upped the tempo as well, bobbing his head up and down in time to some primal rhythm. The two pulled and suckled at each other, their hearts racing fit to burst. Their resonating souls forming a glowing yin-yang; both bound up in their pleasure and the knowledge of their own vulnerability to the other.  
And when it finally happened; it was hard to say who came first.The blast was salty and warm in his mouth. Stein rolled over in ecstasy. The two men splayed across the bed, basking in mutual afterglows. Their chests rose and fell in time to the fading resonance. Stein’s head was spinning, he’d never felt anything like that before. Even the mad thrill of dissecting a new specimen paled in comparison. Spirit’s small whimper broke him out of his reverie, and he pushed himself up to see his partner better. Spirit coughed a little as he swallowed the doctor’s warm sperm. He tried to breathe normally, but a strangled sob escaped his lips anyway. He’d cum, and very hard at that, but so had Stein, shooting him suddenly in the mouth with his hot semen. The red-head squirmed a little, wiping his eyes against the tangled sheets. His wrists were chafed from the ties and his nipples were sore from the bite of the forceps. He sniffed hard, trying to regain his composure, and noticed Stein watching him curiously. His small smile was melting into a slightly worried frown. Shibusens’s Deathscythe felt a little moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes. Ashamed, he tried to blink the unwanted tears away. Franken Stein sighed deeply. “Please don’t cry. Screaming I like, but seeing your tears is unbearable.” At that Spirit couldn’t hold it in anymore. He exploded in a cacophony of sobs. “You just make me feel so damn dirty!” Stein regarded him silently for a moment and then gently unclipped the forceps from his partners throbbing nipples. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.” He said slowly. “That’s not the point!” Spirit shot back. “You just use me like some kind of toy without even asking me what I want!” He struggled against the robe tie biding his wrists and ankles together. The tears were flowing faster now. “What would…? What would people think if they knew?! What would Shinigami-sama say about you fucking me? And Maka would probably hate me for it!” The doctor untied his friend’s bondage before responding. “I don’t think Shinigami-sama would be too upset about his best meister having a relationship with his best weapon. He knows we make a good team and it’s not as if you’re using me to cheat on your wife. As for Maka…” He hesitated. “It’s hard to say. I think your infidelity is what angers her the most. Maybe if we were monogamous for a long time…?” He spread his hands and shrugged theatrically. Spirits expression was sour as he pulled the robe around his naked body. “Now wouldn’t that be an incredibly dysfunctional relationship?” Stein’s crestfallen expression caught Spirit off-guard. “I do love you.” He said softly. “I never wanted to stop being a part of your life, but Kami wouldn’t allow it.” Spirit blinked, “what are you talking about?” “I tried to visit you shortly after Maka was born. Kami just shut the door in my face. The second time was when Maka was just a toddler, too young to even remember.” The Deathscythe hadn’t been aware of any of this. “What happened?” The doctor looked down at his feet; an errant finger traced a loop of stitches around his right ankle. “It was shortly after I’d installed my head-screw, and to be honest I really just wanted to show it to you. I had such high hopes that it would help me control my mind.” “Kami answered the door with Maka at her feet. Your daughter took one look at me and screamed.” He choked for a moment on the bitter memory. “Your wife called me a Kishin, and told me she’d beat me to death if I ever came around again. So I went back to my lab, and there I stayed. I didn’t think your marriage would last, but I didn’t want to be partially responsible for its failure.” Spirit thumped a fist against the bed. “You think I can’t please a woman?!” Stein rounded on him, “of course I don’t think that. I’ve seen how you are with women. They fall all over you! I didn’t think you could please HER. Kami is brash, violent and unforgiving. I’ve seen some of her worst traits manifested in your daughter. I wish I had a Death City note for every time I’ve seen her thump her own partner for some little transgression.” Stein was yelling then, his eyes fierce. “Kami didn’t understand you like I do! She wouldn’t tolerate you coming home drunk at some ungodly hour, smelling of cheap perfume! She just used you to get ahead and then disappeared.” His voice cracked, and Stein gestured helplessly. “Even Maka doesn’t know where she is.” “But I would have stood by you, even forgiven your infidelity… I…” Stein collapsed back down on the bed, his robe sliding down to reveal his ivory torso. He put his hands over his face. “But what difference does it make? I’ve already screwed things up anyway. All you have to do is go back to Shibusen and tell Shinigami-sama that I raped you. They’d put me in prison ‘for my own good’ or some other nonsense. I’m done.” The doctor curled into a ball, his robe bunched up underneath him. “I’ve always done what I wanted in life. I’m not going to start feeling guilty about it now. But since you seem to find my love for you an attack at worst and an annoyance at best- my guess is that you’ll turn me in. Not because you hate me, but because you believe I’ve finally succumbed to the madness. For once, I’m at your mercy.” Spirit couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Stein wasn’t the type to give up even when a battle seemed hopelessly lost. He reached out a tentative hand, and touched the man’s bare skin. Franken Stein was chill to the touch; his looping stitches like spidery black veins in smooth white marble. The younger man trembled slightly under his fingers. Against his better judgment, the red-head laid down at his partners back. His nipples stiffened as they pressed against Stein’s cold flesh, and his penis was tucked snugly between the doctor’s buttocks. He could feel his friend’s muscles flex against his genitals, and the smallest moan escaped Stein’s lips. “Oh Spirit.” An odd notion was growing in Spirit’s brain. He’d never been able to feel with any accuracy when Stein was fooling him. Perhaps Stein was acting this way for a purpose. Maybe he wanted something more then the screams of his partner. Spirit was one of the few who had seen the doctor at his most vulnerable. Lost in madness, and shrieking at the darkness all around him. Or simply silent, staring at nothing, trapped somewhere deep in his thoughts. Spirit remembered how his partner had been when they were kids; violent and cold. He’d hated being assigned to him at first. Didn’t see anything in him but his desire to deal in death, to dissect, just take everything apart and splatter hot blood everywhere. It was only later that he came to understand Stein’s loneliness. How he curled in on himself, and passed harsh judgment on his own behavior. He never let anyone in. A lump was forming in Spirit’s throat. How much had it cost his old friend to tell his weapon that he loved him? How hard to share that thought he’d kept secret for so long, knowing he might be rejected outright? Stein grasped Spirit’s hand lightly and pulled it close to his face. He nuzzled it slowly, and pressed himself more closely against Spirit; just bathing his cold body in the warm radiance emanating from Spirit’s form. His need was tangible. A deep craving to be touched, held close, and maybe something more. Stein could feel Spirit’s warm breath on his neck, and it made the tiny hairs stand to rapt attention. He’d tried his hardest to show his partner everything he could offer as a lover, now there was only the hope that it had softened his old friend towards the idea. If Spirit rejected him now, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to go on living. The pain and loneliness might bring on his madness a final time, and drown him in it forever. He’d never wanted anything so badly in all his life then Spirit’s love right at this moment. The red head regarded the mad doctor curled in his arms. His feelings were a confused jumble. He had hazy memories of staggering home many nights, full of drink and waking up in clean clothes and neatly tucked into his bed. He’d always assumed Stein had used him for diabolical experiments because that what Kami had said and he couldn’t remember how he’d ended up there. Now it seemed it may have been nothing more then the doctor taking care of his partner. Oh, he’d woke up many mornings with a few stitch marks, but they may have been no different then the soul threads Stein regularly cast on himself. ‘And I would have volunteered to help him practice that, if he’d ever just asked me.’ He ran his right hand through Stein’s hair, ruffling the silver strands ever so gently. He bumped up against the wide end of Stein’s screw, and traced the slot across the cold metal. “You never asked me for anything,” Spirit mused. “You always tried to do everything alone.” “I was happy just to have you here. My red rose; the only color in my life.” Spirit’s heart seemed to be lodged in his throat. He felt wanted, not just because he was a Deathscythe, but as one human being craves another. His voice was barely a whisper, “Franken? Would you like me to make love to you?” Stein trembled against him, but said nothing. He took Spirit’s left hand, still cradled against his cheek and wrapped his lips around Spirit’s fingers, sucking roughly on his buki’s fingers. He ground his rear gently against Spirit’s manhood, which began to swell in response. The reply was barely a breath “Please.” The Deathscythe’s cheeks flushed. He’d never, well he’d had sex with lots of women, but never… He drew back his hand, and a few tiny ropes of saliva glistened between his fingers. The doctor leaned even closer against him, turning to offer his pale throat; hips grinding slowly against his friends swollen penis. Then he let out a small “Aaah” as Spirit’s fingers, still wet with spit, were pressed against his most intimate opening. He pushed gently at first, kneading the tender skin in tiny circles. Stein let out a soft moan; this wasn’t the sensation he had expected. But he was always up for an experiment, and he wanted Spirit so badly, he’d even give him this. He gasped at the strange feelings welling up, as the weapons fingers stretched and explored his delicate innards. He was twisting then, his mouth open wide, so Spirit met him halfway. And the doctor sucked rhythmically on the scythe’s supple tongue as his own weapon violated him with his questing digits. After a moment their lips parted and Stein squirmed against the pressure of Spirit’s fingers inside his body. He felt dizzy, and rose up on one elbow to give his screw a quarter turn. He felt odd, sensual and vulnerable, but also safe in Spirit’s arms. The doctor wasn’t afraid of any pain that his senpai might cause him, he was too curious now to care. These feelings were too strange and intense to not explore. But perhaps Spirit still needed a little push. He turned to look his friend, deep green eyes locking gazes with pools of sky blue. He voice was deep and sultry. “Are you going to fuck me senpai? Get me back for all the horrible things I’ve done to you?” The red head was taken slightly aback and removed his hand. “Is that what you want?” Spirit’s smile was slightly twisted. ‘He’s making me just as mad as he is!’ “Then I guess I should give it to you.” He reached for Stein’s medical bag that had toppled onto the floor, but the doctor stayed his hand. “Just use your own fluids, I can take the pain. I want your juices inside of me.” Spirit was so surprised he almost laughed. He’d always thought Stein’s secret wish was to be covered in his partner’s bodily fluids. He’d just assumed that Stein would want it to be his pushy senpai’s blood. Still spooned against the doctor, Spirit spit on his fingers and slathered it all over his erect penis. Stein shuddered a little as his buki pressed the tip of his dick against his tight arse. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. And then the skin was parting, and the Deathscythe was inside, tender skin stretching around his phallus. He moved very slowly, almost rocking his keening friend in his arms. Until, in between breaths, Stein managed to say; “let me up.” Stein rose up on his hands and knees, and spread himself wide to receive his partner. This time Spirit slid in with less resistance. His thrusting was slow but firm, and his hands scrabbled over Stein’s lean torso, looking for purchase as he shoved their sweating bodies together. The redhead grabbed Stein’s screw, and the younger man bucked his head as his partner’s fingers twisted the metal disk the wrong way. He let go just as suddenly, “sorry Franken,” Spirit sputtered. He tried reaching down instead and grasped Stein’s penis firmly, pumping it in erratic rhythm with his insistent thrusts. Stein was concentrating on what he was feeling, the stretch of sore skin with each pump of Spirit’s penis into his flesh, the brush of the phallus across his prostate, and even a bead of sweat that fell from the weapon’s face, and splashed across his shoulder. Spirit was shaking now, only an occasional grunt of pleasure escaped him as he sodomized his oldest and dearest friend. He’d never felt this way, not with a woman, not with anyone. He was so close; he could feel the pressure building. And Stein was keening now, his breath coming in short blasts as he bit the robe bunched beneath him. Suddenly it happened. With Spirit’s last fierce thrust Stein called out loudly; “SOUL THREADS!” And the glowing strings stitched them loosely at the waist and then snapped tight. The shining tendrils yanked their exhausted bodies together one last time before melting away. Spirit fairly screamed as he came, and Stein joined him in a wild yell of exultation as he followed his partner in orgasm. Few people were out in Death City that night. And even fewer heard the wild howls coming from the window of the Patchwork Laboratory. But just as quickly as the sounds had risen, they fell away into silence again. And then there was only the wind whispering through the arrow trees and the distant chuckle of the moon above. * * * * *


	4. Chapter 4

The sun peeking over the windowsill was what finally roused the doctor from his deep slumber. He lifted himself up just enough to draw the curtain and shut out the suns annoyingly cheerful face.   
It had been a long night, hell; it had been a long weekend. Spirit showing up wet and drunk on the lab’s doorstep felt like a lifetime ago. Even in their deepest resonance of souls, neither man had ever explored the other so deeply. And finally, exhausted in mind and body, both had collapsed.   
Stein felt a mild throbbing from his backside, but it was nothing compared to the emotional pain he’d been struggling with for years. He looked down at Spirit. The other man lay passed out beside him in a tangle of sheets. A little bubble of spit rose and fell at the corner of his mouth as he snored softly.   
The sight made Stein smile; and it was a real smile this time. Not the sardonic sneer of a grin he often used to intimidate people. He ran his fingers through Spirit’s cherry-red hair. It was soft and warm, smelling of spice and subtle pheromones. Stein carefully pulled the blankets back to expose more of the Deathscythe’s smooth skin. The doctor put a gentle hand between Spirit’s shoulder blades, just feeling the faint pulse of his soul through his friends skin.   
Idly he traced a lean finger along Spirit’s back, down the hollow of his waist, and across his tight buttocks. Like ink following the point of a pen, black soul threads marked a dark tattoo of stitches wherever his finger traveled. A long curving line that bisected his back only to circle one cheek and rise up again to the red-heads waist. As his finger crossed the Deathscythe’s tailbone he woke suddenly, and with a yelp; leaped away from such an invasive touch.   
Or at least he tried to… The tiny thread pulled him up short and he face-planted into the pillows instead. Spirit looked back at his arse in a panic and saw the black thread still connecting it to Stein’s pointing finger. He scowled and the doctor flicked his hand idly, making the black line in the air fly apart and leave only the marks on his buki’s skin.   
Spirit twisted awkwardly, trying to see what was on his back. “What were you doing Stein?”  
“Oh calm down, I was just doodling, you know it never lasts long.”  
The redhead gathered up the blanket around himself. “Yours have certainly lasted a while.”   
Franken Stein was quiet for a long moment before answering softly, “that’s because they were real cuts once upon a time.”  
Spirit decided not to press the issue further. It seemed a sore subject for his old friend. He decided to change topics instead. “What time is it anyway?”  
“Probably about 10am.”  
“Damn! I’m late! Shinigami-sama will probably swat me!” Spirit cast around desperately for his clothes, forgetting that Stein had put them somewhere the night before and he hadn’t seen them since.   
The doctor’s expression was as placid as a cat’s.   
“Clothes dryer,” he said, “I trust you remember where it is?”   
Spirit dashed out of the room and then walked back in again.   
Stein was just sitting up in bed. He was still naked, his pale skin making him look vulnerable and sickly. Only the tiniest corner of a sheet was draped across his lap.   
The Deathscythe walked up to the edge of the bed and leaned down. Aqua eyes locked with olive green. Spirit stared for a moment in uneasy silence and then said, “well, uh, I guess I’ll see you at work?”   
Suddenly the doctor grabbed the weapon by his shoulders and dragged him down. He pressed his lips hard to the other mans and thrust his tongue into Spirit’s mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Then he let go just as suddenly and sat back.   
Spirit almost fell over from the shock but still managed to stagger out of the room. There was a sound of the dryer banging and then the front door opened and shut.   
“Yes.” Stein whispered to himself. “I’ll see you at work.” And then he smiled again. 

* * * * *

Spirit was well and truly winded by the time he made it to the middle dais of the Shinigami’s office. It always seemed that the hall of tori gate guillotines leading up to it was much longer when he was in a hurry.   
He tried hard to compose himself, smoothing his messy hair. The loss of his tie was irksome, but it had had a big hole burned in it and there was nothing that could be done about it now. He pulled on his collar and realized his cross pins were both missing. Stein must have taken them off before washing his shirt. He grit his teeth in frustration.   
But then there was no more time to think as the death god noticed him.   
The Shinigami sat on a pillow before a low table. A tiny steaming teacup balanced delicately between his massive fingers. The Deathscythe knelt on a cushion across from him.   
The mask turned to him, white and inscrutable. Spirit had no clue whether his boss was angry with him, or if his tardiness had even been noted.   
Then the god spoke; “I had a cup for you too, but it got cold and Sid isn’t here right now to fetch another.”   
“I’m sorry sir. Wait, where is Sid?”   
The dark figure poured a dribble of tea into a hole in his mask. “Sid is tending to Hakase Stein-kun’s class. It seems he is also late this morning. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”   
Spirit felt his cheeks getting hot and red. ‘Don’t lie! He’ll see right through it!’  
“I uh, I saw him just this morning. I imagine he’s just running late. You know how he is; he gets fixated on stuff and can’t stop to rest properly.”  
A long silent moment expanded between the sweating weapon and his boss.   
The Shinigami chuckled merrily, “ well that’s all right then. I know he’s been a lot better since Marie healed him and Medusa was destroyed.” He patted Spirit on the head with one huge hand. “All the same it’s good to know you’re still keeping an eye on him, just in case.”  
Spirit’s fists clenched under the table, the words weren’t meant to sting, but they did all the same. He’d regretted not keeping a sharper eye on Stein when he was supposed to be under house arrest, and then having to send someone else to go find him when he disappeared…   
But the Death God was still speaking, “Stein-kun may not even admit it to himself, but you’re his best friend, and probably the only one he really trusts.”

* * * * *

Class Crescent Moon was quiet as Stein rolled his desk chair in. Sid had had given the kids some busywork in the doctors absence, and was now waiting as patiently as only the undead can. Stein murmured some appreciative words as the zombie vacated his desk and walked out of the classroom.   
He had planned some field exercises today, but now it seemed appropriate to delay just a little while longer and let the young ones finish what the zombie had assigned. Let them chafe at sitting still, and then they’d be all the more eager to go outside and scuffle in the dirt. He leaned forward against his backward chair and let his eyes drift behind the shining panes of his glasses.   
His pupils were all up to their usual antics. Blackstar seemed to feel the doctor’s scrutiny and shoved his nose into a book to give the illusion of studying. Liz and Patty were sharing their assignment, but he’d let that pass since Patty still needed help with basic reading. Kid was already finished and idly twisting the identical rings on his middle fingers. Tsubaki was obviously reading something else concealed in her textbook, but she was also a diligent student and probably done as well.   
Young Soul’s face was screwed up like a monkey doing a math problem, and his sharp teeth protruded slightly over his curled lip. And ah, Maka. Most likely doing extra work, just because. So like her mother.   
Stein sneered internally at the thought of Kami. All those miserable lonely years he’d endured because of her. And now she was gone, and Spirit was his again. But, he supposed, all was not in vain. Spirit’s dearest wish for a child had been fulfilled. And even though they didn’t get along, she was still a superb meister that he could be proud of. And then there was the secret that even Spirit didn’t know. He smiled inwardly.   
Beneath that sweet expression, those bouncing pigtails and short skirt, that modest blush; was pure steel. The fathers bloodline expressed in a forest of scythe blades just waiting for the right moment to emerge.   
Stein had no doubt that she would make Soul into a Deathscythe. And then, perhaps, she could become one herself. Ah, now that was something to look forward too. A grand experiment. ‘I wonder if I scared her badly enough if she’d shift spontaneously?’   
Maka suddenly noticed her professor staring at her and smiled warmly in his direction. He smiled back. But inside he was thinking, ‘I fucked your father yesterday, and he liked it. Your days of thumping him with books for his infidelity may soon be over.’   
At the mere mental mention of sex with Spirit, Stein felt a sore heat blossom in his groin. And he was grateful for the desk and his long lab coat, for together they fully concealed the throbbing evidence of his lust. 

* * * * *

Spirit wasn’t sure he could respond to the Shinigami’s frank description of his friendship with Stein without blurting out the whole sordid tale of his encounter with the doctor. He forgave Stein for his initial rough treatment of his old weapon, and didn’t want to get him in trouble. The doctor hadn’t had any serious bouts of insanity lately and he wanted to make sure his friend had room to heal himself without interference.   
Thankfully Sid saved him the trouble by wandering in with a stack of papers.   
He told them that Stein had finally showed up and that when he came back by later everyone had apparently gone to the training field. Then he proffered a page to the Shinigami and said something else. But Spirit wasn’t listening anymore. He waited for the god to turn away from him to deal with the zombie and then wandered off.   
The Shinigami headmasters ‘office’ was more like a pocket dimension, much bigger then the castle turret that contained it. A flat plane of sand-colored surface seemed to stretch out forever, dotted here and there with lopsided pseudo-crosses like a messy graveyard.   
A fat cloud rolled along at ground level and Spirit stepped over it. It made him think of Stein. One of the many times they had been called to the office as kids. Franken Stein just couldn’t focus on the lecture he was supposed to be receiving. The little rolling clouds had fascinated him. He’d wanted very badly to grab one and cut it open to see how it was inside.   
The thought made the Deathscythe pause. He looked back to see if anyone was watching and retraced his steps. Stooping he poked the surface of the lazy cloud. It gave slightly before parting around his hand. The interior was wet and soft, and as he lifted his hand a clump of the cloud came away with it. It felt like a damp sea sponge resting on his palm. He fished around in his pockets until he came up with a handkerchief, and tied it in a furoshiki bundle around the piece of cloud.   
He was surprised at the warm feelings that welled up at the thought of Franken Stein’s sparkling green eyes when he would give him the bit of cloud-stuff.   
‘What on Earth has gotten into me?’   
And then, ‘I wonder if I can come up with an excuse to go out to the training field?’

* * * * *

It was a tense hour or two before Spirit was able to slip away. He mumbled something about finding Maka and eating his lunch with her and skittered off. But for once it wasn’t his beloved daughter he was focused on. The only thing on his mind was the one person he’d spent far too much time avoiding in the past.   
Class Crescent Moon was mostly empty, only Ox remained. The kid was reading a book while he ate and only looked up briefly when Spirit came in.   
“Have you seen Professor Stein?”  
He shook his head, ‘nope.’   
Next he tried the infirmary, knocking softly and peeking around the door. Kniges greeted him warmly, but said she hadn’t seen the screw-headed doctor herself since Friday morning.   
His black shoes tapped softly on the stone floor as he walked slowly down one of Shibusen’s main hallways. A few kids were scattered here and there, checking the grade and job boards, eating lunch, or just chatting in small groups.   
He checked the turrets, the battlements and finally walked out Shibusen’s front doors. A faint whiff of cigarette smoke floating on the breeze tickled his nose. And he spun in place trying to locate the source. At the base of the stairs sat Stein, idly turning his office chair back and forth underneath him. He gave it a slow spin and left a chain of tiny skulls in a ring around his head. Maka was sitting on the step in front of him. The two of them were having some kind of spirited conversation.   
He quickly ducked behind a pillar so they wouldn’t see him, and strained to hear what they were saying.   
But it was too quiet, and Stein was grinning now. He made some small comment and Maka blushed crimson and laughed just a little too loud. She stood up; dusting her skirt and Stein patted her on the shoulder. She made a polite half-bow to her professor and skipped off.   
Stein chuckled darkly to himself and took a long drag off his cigarette.   
Spirit looked around, there were too many other people in the courtyard for him to do anything that might attract attention. He straightened his jacket and sauntered down the steps.   
“Oh hai sempai.” Stein said, smiling broadly. Spirit could feel himself starting to blush now. “So um, what’s uh, happening?”   
“You left your pins at the lab” he said in a friendly tone. “Looking for an excuse to come back over?”   
Spirit felt his blush spread from head to toe. “I, uh, Stein-!”  
Then the bell ran and the students started to file back into the school.   
Dr. Stein stood up and picked up his chair. As he walked up the steps with it he brushed close to the weapon, sending waves of heat all through his body. His whisper was like silk across Spirit’s ear; “I didn’t tell her.”   
And then he was gone. 

* * * * *

In the afternoon, Franken Stein walked back to his lab with a little spring in his step. A soft package was tucked under his arm and his face was painted with a wide grin. Needless to say, the other inhabitants of Death City gave him an even wider berth then usual. They figured that if the doctor was happy, someone was certainly in for some trouble.   
Soon, night fell on the Patchwork Lab, and showed more clearly a single open window aglow in an upper room. And from it drifted the merry rat-tat-tat-tat-tat sound of one of Stein’s favorite tools. 

* * * * *

Spirit wasn’t sure why he cared if anyone saw him going to the doctor’s lab, but he still waited until full dark to approach it. He sidled up to the door with a bundle in hand and knocked softly. The door swung open with a creak at his touch.   
Inside the only light was the glow from a computer monitor. It was just a screen-saver image of a screw tumbling in 3-D. He ran his hand over the doctor’s patchwork chair; the fabric was cool to the touch. The Deathscythe settled gently into the office chair. The door had been open, and the doctor would come when he was ready.  
A tiny glint of blue light on the desk drew his eye closer. His pins were balanced on the top edge of Stein’s keyboard, the dark metal reflecting the glow. Spirit reached out for them…  
The movement of air behind him was just a whisper, and the redhead had no time to even scream as an ominous figure slipped something over his head and cinched it tight around his neck. Strong hands clamped his wrists at his sides and he cried out in a panic. He looked up wildly and Dr. Franken Stein was silhouetted in the half-light, his glasses reflecting Spirit’s terrified face back at him.   
And then the grip slackened and Stein leaned down. He delicately kissed Spirit’s forehead and withdrew his hands entirely. Spirit grabbed at the loop constricting his throat and felt a familiar silkiness.   
It was a tie. Just like his old one, maybe even better. The jet-black fabric flowed like water in his hands. Stein had knotted it and lassoed his old partner with it.   
Spirit was so flustered he wasn’t sure what to say. Finally he settled for; “did you make this yourself?”   
Stein nodded. He was, after all, famed for his sewing skills. “Cloth or skin sempai, it’s all the same to me.”   
“It’s beautiful work, and I’m grateful. But you’re still a cruel man Franken.” Spirit proclaimed. “Why do I like you so much?”   
His friend shrugged and adjusted his screw. “Stockholm syndrome perhaps?”   
Spirit proffered the package, “I brought you something too.”   
With a curious look, the doctor unraveled the bundle of cloth. Inside was a jar with the piece of cloud in the bottom. It was about the size of a man’s fist and had developed a spiral. It looked like a pure white cinnamon roll.   
“I remembered that you wanted to study the Shinigami’s office clouds, so I grabbed a handful of one when no one was looking. I don’t think it will get far if you let it out, but it probably needs a bigger container.”  
Stein tried to hide his surprise and barely managed it. “I have an empty terrarium-” He mused, and then… “Weren’t you worried about getting in trouble sempai?” He said slyly.   
The weapon blushed shamelessly. “I wanted to make you happy.”   
And in that moment the doctor reached out for Spirit, who laced his fingers among Stein’s as if he were shifting to weapon form, but then just stayed that way. Intertwined.  
And Stein said simply; “you do make me happy… Spirit. You always have.”


End file.
